


I Know a Place Where Dreams are Born

by soggyhook



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 19:01:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4448039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soggyhook/pseuds/soggyhook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If the thing did not happen at the end of the season four finale; Killian and Emma are able to spend the day at the apartment relaxing and playing Peter Pan the musical.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Know a Place Where Dreams are Born

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I’ve worked on every once in a while when I couldn’t find my muse for my main multi-chapter fic. I’m dedicating it to July 22, 2015; the day we lost ourselves due to a reflection in a window. Amen.

Killian and Emma slept blissfully. The alternate reality had drained both of them. It wasn’t even morning when they woke, their limbs intertwined and not quite ready to leave the other. Emma woke first and all she could do was laugh as her unspoken desires and the rose print of the bedspread registered in her mind. She sighed happily and sat up, tugging on her red leather jacket a little uncomfortably. Hell, their boots were still on. They hadn’t moved since she found him teasing her upstairs after their thankful return to the real world.

She adjusted her position so she was leaning on her right arm. She peered at Killian, adoring his sleeping form but unable to stop herself from waking him. “Hey,” she said. She ran her hand through his hair, then let it trail down the side of his jaw.

He moved around a little, not quite coming to terms with the afternoon until she said his name. “Why, hello.” His mouth curved into his classic smirk.

“Hello.” She kissed him good morning, but she could tell from the sunlight sneaking in through the windows that it was late. She was so giddy she felt like a teenager in high school.

So she hadn’t said the three words her heart wished to say. It truly didn’t matter right now. He didn’t pressure her to go on when he realized she couldn’t, and she knew they had plenty of time. If she hadn’t noticed before, she surely noticed and reveled in it now: _they were timeless._

She was just glad her pirate wasn’t dead.

They smiled at each other for a moment before Emma felt she had to usher them forward—before they were doing something she wasn’t ready to do, something she worried she wouldn’t try to stop. “We should go downstairs and get breakfast.”

“What’s for breakfast, love?”

“I don’t know, cereal?” Killian raised an eyebrow, beginning to taunt her.

“What if I want something else?”

Emma would have replied, had he not pulled her down on top of him. Again. But she let him, so that they were on the bed, laughing and kissing for another short while. It took Emma all she had to finally pull him off the bed and lead him down the stairs.

Killian could only mumble, “Your father is going to kill me.”

“Yeah, as if I’m going to let _that_ happen again.”

When they reached the bottom of the stairs he kissed her golden hair. “Thanks, Swan.”

Emma was smiling when she rolled her eyes and grabbed his hand, leading him to the surprisingly empty kitchen. “Huh, that’s weird.” A quick glance to the clock told her it was 12:42; another glance, and she saw the note on the table. She picked it up and read it quickly, her giddiness returning when she told Killian what it said. “My parents left us the apartment for the day. Do you know what that means?”

“All day with my Swan?” He flashed her favorite toothy grin.

“With no parents to stumble upon our _quiet moments_ ,” she looked him in the eye, “and then fear interrupting us about it.” Relief flooded through her as she dropped the note back on the table. “So,” she announced, “breakfast.” She looked in the pantry after attacking the fridge. It was only a moment before she pulled out a cereal box. “I think you’ll find this one to your liking, Captain.” She put it on the counter before moving to grab bowls, spoons and milk.

“Marshmallow treasures?” Killian laughed, looking at the purple octopus and treasure chest on the front of the box. He supposed the marshmallows were to be the jewels and gold. “Always knew you had a little pirate in you, Swan.”

“And _I_ always knew you had a little hero in you.”

He smiled lightly at her as she grabbed the box from his hand, filling their bowls. She topped them off with a spoon and milk before handing his bowl off to him and leading them to the couch. It was going to be a great day. Or so she thought until he took a bite of his cereal and grimaced. “What, no goat’s milk, Swan?”

“Oh shut up.” She playfully hit his shoulder. “But if it sincerely bothers you, we can get some first thing tomorrow.” She winked at him before taking another bite of cereal. “Though, I wouldn’t be against a little celebration with rum tonight.”

“Too right,” he replied.

They ate the rest of their food in silence, joyous in each other’s presence. They had come so close to separation so many times before, and finally, _finally_ something wasn’t more important than their reunion.

They put their empty bowls on the coffee table in front of them, and leaned into each other.

Killian put his arm around Emma, his hook coming to rest at her waist. “What do you want to do today, love?”

“Honestly? Just this. This is perfect.” She sighed and closed her eyes in contentment.

“Why don’t we put in a movie then? We could watch Peter Pan. I can finally see that awful perm you’ve rambled about.”

Emma’s eyes flew open. “Oh my god, I have a better idea.”

“Better than Peter Pan?”

“Barely.” She turned so she could face him better. “Peter Pan _the musical_.”

Killian looked astounded. “With bloody lost boys singing?”

“Exactly that,” she smirked.

“Bring it on, Swan.”

It was all the encouragement she needed to leap off the couch and grab the film from the VHS stand. She was a little worried it wouldn’t work, but it played good as new when she put it in. She settled next to Killian again, her eyes focused on the television screen.

They’d done something like this before at the sheriff’s station before. A sweet gesture when tensions were as high as the walls she’d built around herself—but that wasn’t a problem anymore. She let Killian put his arm around her, and she put her hand just at the top of his brace tenderly, which had found rest again at her hip. She sighed happily as the musical began to start. They watched the movie silently, neither stirring much until the arrival of Peter Pan.

“Imagine that,” Killian said.

“It gets better.”

And it did.

With the chorus of _Never Never Land_ Killian couldn’t help but laugh. “I don’t quite recall my time in Neverland being like that.”

Emma nodded as Peter sang, _For once you have found your way there, you can never ever grow old._ To which Killian winked and added, “Aside from that, lass. I’ve so obviously retained my youthful glow.”

“Wait until you meet the Captain.” Emma smirked at him, devilishly, so much so that Killian feigned offense. “Love, the only Captain here is me.” He raised his eyebrows, his right hand moving to his heart. “To think I have competition.”

Emma tried to remain indifferent to his response; she tried to roll her eyes, and tried to set her mouth in a thin line; she was pausing, holding her breath, ready to erupt with a sarcastic comment, but Killian’s eyes only allowed laughter to come pouring out.

She briefly wondered what David would think, and when she realized the day they were having—a day like none other, she calmed, and said, simply, “We shall see.”

And they did.

Because when Captain Hook emerged on the screen, it was evident that Emma didn’t care for the perm, didn’t care for his curvy mustache, and certainly didn’t care for his voice.

She’d turned into Killian, whispering in his ear, “What do you think about your competition, _Captain_?”

He’d suddenly become all too aware of Emma, who hadn’t moved back to face the television, to even consider _this_ Captain. “I…um…”

Was it just Emma, or had he turned into stuttering Prince Charles, again?

Emma shut him up, kissing him so absolutely and intensely and passionately—just as she loved him—and it didn’t take him long to respond, his hand flying to her golden locks almost immediately.

It had been but a moment before Killian was pulling her on top of him, and she was looking down at him, licking her lips. It wasn’t all too different from the night before, when she jumped him the second she realized he was alive and well—well enough to even tease about the matter.

Killian surprisingly didn’t pout at the short distance Emma was from him now—not that she was far, but he far preferred his lips finding home with hers.

He studied her expression intensely, and he could see her weighing something in her mind; she wasn’t avoiding his eyes, but he could tell there was something lying behind hers.He put a loose curl behind her ear, trying to keep her relaxed and remain respectful of her space.

Because if it was what he thought it was…

Emma smiled at him, her teenage giddiness returning like none other. It seemed that it would never disappear.

“I…I told you once that home is the place where, when you leave, you miss it. You miss it, and that’s how you know it’s home.” She took a quick little breath. She felt her heart was beating out of her chest and that Killian would be capable of catching it at any moment. She pulled him up so he was sitting with her.

Killian knew where she was going, and didn’t push her. He didn’t raise his eyebrow, or let the beginnings of a knowing smirk form. He studied her patiently, capturing the way her eyes sparkled, and the way her lips were slowly trying to form the words she so wished to say.

“Killian, you’re home to me.” She reached to intertwine her left hand with his right. “I never thought I’d find home, and I have been so scared of losing you, that when I did, I realized I never told you how I love you. That I’ve known that I love you. And that if I’d come home yesterday to find you dead, I’d never, ever find home again.”

He was looking at her earnestly, and was relieved to hear those words that sounded like music, because he could finally confess, “I love you, too, Swan.”

True love was in their kiss, as a single tear fell from Emma’s eye.

When she looked at him again, he was all she wanted.

And it was very clear that he wanted her.

Their hands went flying, their unspoken desires creating voluminous harmonies between them.

Emma flung her jacket behind the couch before very eagerly helping Killian with his. She ran her hands up and down his chest, unable to comprehend the presence of the moment. There were no giant snow monsters that needed chasing, no Dark One to be stopped, no nothing happening on the streets of Storybrooke. Killian was all hers, and she his, in this very moment.

He chuckled, both delighted and surprised by her eagerness. “Excited, love?”

“You’re not going to sit here and tell me we don’t deserve this, right now, are you? Because I refuse to let anyone take any more of these moments from us.”

He looks at her for a loving moment before his lips crash back to hers; and she’s unbuttoning his vest, and he’s kissing her neck, ready to get lost in his Swan, and she’s taking off her shirt, and _bloody hell_ , why does she have a tank top on under her shirt, and the musical is forgotten behind them, and they’re trying to get comfortable on the couch, but refusing to stop for even the short amount of time it would take to climb upstairs, and they’re kissing again, because they don’t need to rush, they shouldn’t rush, and—then footsteps are heard. Emma refuses to acknowledge it, and pouts when Killian pulls away from her, with a quizzical expression on his face. “Swan?”

She pulls a hand to his cheek, “Let’s just ignore it, okay?” Though, she immediately changes her mind when she hears the footsteps get louder and louder. “Oh my god.”

She jumps off of Killian’s lap, pulls her shirt up and on from the ground, and cranks up the volume of the television as he buttons his vest. She doesn’t even have time to grab their leather jackets which were tossed behind the couch because the door knob is turning.

She settles back next to Killian, her eyes focused on the television. The Indians and the Lost Boys were singing together. _I’ll just send for Tiger Lily. I’ll send for Peter Pan. We’ll be coming willy nilly Lily!_

Emma asks, in a voice she has somehow managed to control, “Did you ever know a Tiger Lily in your time in Neverland?”

Killian’s expresses himself half in amusement and half disappointment when he says, “No, love. Tiger Lily is an age old myth,” right as the Charmings manage to open the door.

Snow was all smiles as she pushed the baby stroller in. “Good afternoon!” Charming followed behind her and shut the door.

It takes so much energy for Emma to say “hi” back, and she is overly aware of how her smile feels like a tight coil—and how it must look it. _This had better be worth it._

Snow is the first to break the news of why they’ve returned home before the day’s end. “Well, we were just out with Neal for a stroll. We stopped by Granny’s and found everyone wants to celebrate. We just wanted to change before we head back over. Do you two want to come?”

“For the usual celebration at Granny’s?” Emma didn’t hide her disinterest well.

Snow had stopped near the couch and was joined by Charming who put his arm around her and said, “Well, you know how it is.” He smiled.

Emma didn’t have to look at Killian to know they would not be attending. “I think we may sit this one out.”

Snow was disappointed. But it did not near reach the level Emma and Killian were at. “You should come! I hear she’s trying a new recipe; she’s giving up the grilled cheese and trying her hand at tacos today.”

Killian spoke up this time, looking at Emma before he replied, “We were actually quite enjoying ourselves here. Emma’s got Peter Pan playing on the television for me.” He nodded toward the screen. “And I must say, this portrayal of me is quite strange.”

Emma laughed, “Yeah, not to mention he’s missing all the leather.”

Killian nodded, knowing very well how well he wore it, and Emma wondered if she should be making jokes, considering _their_ leathers were on the ground behind them—and she wasn’t keen in having her parents discover what they’d really been up to—what they currently wanted to be up to.

Her parents just shook their heads and laughed, relieved to be back as well. The books and movies of this world could say whatever they wanted about them, they knew it wasn’t true. Besides, it often rang humorous compared to what Rumple and Isaac had in store for them.

Charming’s thoughts trailed to his actions in the other world. “Oh, and Hook, about last night: I didn’t mean to kill you. But, to be fair,” he turned to Snow, “I didn’t have a heart.”

Snow saw the mischief stirring in her husband’s eyes. “So I guess it’s my fault then? I think what he means to say is that we are sorry.”

Emma and Killian exchanged looks, much like her parents just did. Killian accepted the apology, saying, “You don’t need to be sorry. Although, I do plan to hold it over your heads for a very long time.” His eyebrow arched. _Until the day I marry your daughter._

Emma added, “I think we both know what happened in that world was not real. Though seeing you as real villains made me sorry for holding a grudge against you for so long.” She stood up to embrace her parents for a moment, much to their relief.

When she released them they went upstairs to get ready for what would be another ordinary day at Granny’s.

Emma sat next to Killian, leaning her arm against the couch. “A very long time?”

“I’ve waited centuries for you, Swan.” He looked down. “I may not have always known it, but I have.”

She reached a hand out to him. She knew he was referring to his former quest for vengeance. How he believed he would never have anything—or anyone— _until I met you_ —to live for. “I told you that I liked when people find their good hearts along the way.” She reached for the remote on the coffee table across from them, muting the music of Peter Pan.

But Killian caught the lyric to the last song; Emma did too.

_I know a place where dreams are born…_

“Storybrooke,” he whispered.

“Neverland,” she returned. Emma kissed him like she did in Neverland, her attention on nothing else until she heard the creaking steps of the staircase. Snow and Charming looked refreshed as they approached the stroller they’d left near the couch.

“Okay, we’ll take Neal and leave you two be,” Snow sang.

“Alright, well, have fun.” Emma said goodbye, wondering if disaster would strike. She knew it wouldn’t, but it always seemed to at Granny’s.

“Remember, you can always join us later. For some coffee maybe?”

Oh, Charming’s suggestion. Because what had they been trying to do?

Killian and Emma bid farewell but never joined them at Granny’s.

They didn’t need to leave the loft to get coffee; the couch and bed both made great coffee makers.

 


End file.
